"If you don't know where this brothel is, how did you get back to your barracks?"
"The madam called a taxi for me. I got back to the barracks about quarter to two. I had to hang around and wait before I could actually get in."
"Did anyone see you?"
"No, man, I wasn't supposed to be there. I hung around in the alley; I guess there weren't even many people on the street that time of morning. But the taxi driver can vouch for me."
"Was it the same driver who took you to the brothel?"
"Yeah."
"I don't suppose you know his name, or even which taxi company this was?"
Hal shrugged awkwardly. "No. But I think he was using AS control when we left. You'll be able to trace him through the traffic regulator logs."
"We'll certainly check."
"And so will we," Bralow murmured. He met the detective's gaze levelly.
"So," Galliani said. "We've established you were out on the streets at the same time this alleged rape took place, and that no one can actually confirm exactly where you were."
"The taxi driver can, the madam can, Avril sure as shit can—" Hal was checking them off on his fingers.
"Avril?"
"The whore I spent half the night screwing. There were a couple of other whores I saw there, as well. Don't know their names, though."
"But you'll recognize them when you see them?"
"Yeah, no problem."
"So all we have to do is find this taxi, and the brothel, and you're in the clear?"
"Yeah." Hal smiled happily. "Yeah, you got it, man."
"So how do you explain your semen being found inside the victim's vagina?"
Hal's smile dried up. "I don't know. It's a sting. A frame-up. It can't be anything else."
"And the girl's story? That you attacked her in Sheridan Park? That you threatened to set off her collateral necklace if she didn't do what you wanted?"
"Hey, that's your bullshit, man. None of that crap happened. None of it. I wasn't in Sheridan Park. She's lying. She's a part of all this."
"All this? So it's a conspiracy, then?"
Hal glanced at Bralow.
"Zantiu-Braun personnel would be the obvious victims of any rogue criminal elements in Memu Bay," the lieutenant said. "And we both know there are some."
"You've been having a tough time from our hooligan element," Galliani said. "But there's no organized resistance group, is there?"
Captain Bryant cleared his throat. "No. There is no organized resistance group in Memu Bay."
Hal twisted around in his seat to stare at the captain. "You've gotta be jerking me off. You were at the fucking soccer match, for Christ's sake. You saw Graham Chapell get blown to shit by KillBoy's bastards. You saw that!"
"We're still investigating the soccer game incident," Bryant said to Galliani. "We're not yet sure what happened."
"Jesus fucking wept."
"So there may or may not be someone, or some group of people, capable of setting you up for rape," Galliani said.
"Damn betcha there is," Hal told him. "It's that bastard KillBoy you should be looking for. Not me."
"Which means the rape victim must be part of the conspiracy?"
"You bet. You call her in here and give her the third degree. She'll crack."
"Strange how this comes back to the oldest conflict the human race has."
"What do you mean?"
"One of you is lying."
"It's her, man, I swear it. She's jerking you around. She's saying everything KillBoy told her to."
Galliani paused, as if considering something. Then he called up a file from one of the desktop pearls. Its pane displayed a girl's face. Hal was very aware that the detective was watching him closely.
"For the record, Mr. Grabowski, have you ever seen her before?"
Hal frowned, not quite understanding what was going on. "That's Avril. How did you get her picture?"
"Avril?"
"Yeah. The whore at the brothel. You do know where it is. Why did you say you didn't?"
"Let us be quite clear about this. You're saying that girl is Avril, whom you met in a brothel last night?"
"Yeah. Have you known this all along?"
"Mr. Grabowski, did you at any time last night have sex with the person you call Avril?"
"What, that's not her real name?"
"Did you have sex with that girl?" Galliani's finger tapped impatiently on the pane.
"Sure. I got my money's worth. I keep telling you. She's the one. I was there in the whorehouse with her last night."
There was another moment of silence. The detective appeared almost embarrassed.
"Mr. Grabowski, did you notice anything out of the ordinary about Avril?"
"Like what?" Hal wasn't committing himself. There was something badly wrong about this, he knew it. Damn but he wanted the sarge to be here.
"Did she, for instance, have a collateral necklace fitted?"
The question surprised him. "No. No way."
"You're sure about that?"
"Hey, I got to see a damn sight more than her neck, man. She wasn't wearing no necklace. What is this crap?"
"I think I've heard all I need to at this point, thank you," Galliani said. "We'll take a break. And I really think you need to have a long talk with your lawyer, Mr. Grabowski."
"Just what the hell is going on?" Hal demanded. "Okay, so I fucked some whore. That's not a crime. She wasn't even much good. I should have had a refund, man."
Someone in the office roared wildly. Hal searched around for the noise, just in time to see the man in the expensive suit charging at him. His face was red and contorted in feral rage, arms held out straight in front of him, hands ready to tear and throttle. He jumped at Hal, who didn't have time to move aside. The two of them crashed to the floor, thrashing about. Then Galliani and the senior policeman were pulling him off. Bralow hung on to Hal, who was game for getting back up and decking the old maniac.
"What the fuck..." he shouted.
The man was quickly hustled out of the door. He was sobbing now, a wretched gulping sound that was clearly audible even after the door was shut.
"This place is a fucking loony bin," Hal announced. "What the hell is going on here?"